


The Fairest of Them All

by kutucababa



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Amusement Park, Carnival, Circus, Dorkiness, Fair, Fluff, Food, M/M, Modern AU, funnel cake fun, rides
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-28
Updated: 2014-08-28
Packaged: 2018-02-15 03:09:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2213544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kutucababa/pseuds/kutucababa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In order to get away from his obsessively helpful parents, Jean Kirstein gets a job with Andy's Amusements that takes him to fairs and the like all around the country. In his travels, he meets Marco Bodt, who shakes up everything Jean thought he had figured out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

I wished I knew what it was like to have parents that weren't so fast to cater to my every need. Like, for once, could I do something myself? Without people assuming my parents had already cleared my path of all obstacles so their little Jean-bo could waltz through life? They were like those waiters that stare at you, anticipating the moment you take a sip of water so they can run back over and refill your already overspilling glass. 

One summer, I wanted to prove that I didn't need them. Having that waiter staring at you for so long makes you feel super cramped and invaded. So I left. I was eighteen and supposed to be headed to a good college to get a good job to spoil my own kids in good ol' Kirstein fashion. But, I thought, to heck with their money. They'd spent plenty enough on me already, and I was going to earn enough to go to college on my own and, in the meantime, escape that prison of a house.

I needed a traveling job. That was the most important factor to me. I wasn't a cute girl so flight attendant wouldn't work, and I didn't have any cool talents so that ruled out bands and circuses. The thought of circuses, however, sparked an idea of a job a guy with only a high school diploma could get.

So, a portable amusement park ride operator I became.

My parents were thrilled, obviously. Who wouldn't be thrilled that the son they'd so carefully nurtured into an intelligent, respectable young man wanted nothing more than to jump from festival to festival, doing little more than pushing buttons and watching people scream and puke? My old high school guidance counsellor, Ms. Ral, turned out to be the best one at comforting my parents about my leaving. She knew me pretty well at this point, as I had made numerous trips to her office as an awkward, shaken-coke-bottle of a teenage boy struggling to understand his sexuality and how to deal with aggressively caring parents. She explained that lots of high school graduates chose to take a "gap year" to figure out what they wanted to do with their lives instead of wasting money studying something they didn't love in college. If calling it that placated my folks, I was grateful.

The very thing that seemed to them as if it would destroy the perfect life they'd created for me would be what opened doors for me to actually start living. It was a good life, but it was their creation, and I was finally off to create a life of  my own.

\--

The fist few weeks working for Andy's Amusements was rough. Definitely. But the good kind of rough that makes you feel rugged and adventurous. Like camping. In a trailer. With three middle-aged Hispanic men. All the places we went seemed to blend together after awhile, and I forgot what state I was in all too often. However, the food was unhealthy and plentiful, the money was mine, and I felt more blissfully alone in my new cramped living space than I ever had at "home." 

 

By my second month away, the adrenaline rush of freedom died down and I began to feel lonely, and not the good kind as I'd been feeling earlier. I wasn't ready to go back to big-city-Trost and see my parents again, no way, and between my minimal wage income and my life savings I was still nowhere near close enough to being able to pay for a year in a parochial school, let alone college, so my only option was to make some real friends.

I checked the schedule. The next day, we'd be headed for a week-long County Fair in a small town called Jinae. We would spend a little over two weeks there, including setup and teardown. I was confused and curious as to how such a little town could keep a fair on for a week, so I consulted the nearest of my English-speaking coworkers.

Jerry, with his missing teeth and his beard long enough to meet the height requirement for most rides, was happy to explain, as he'd been to the Jinae County Fair every year for the past decade. Apparently this fair was over a hundred years old, and was absolutely massive. One of the best that Andy's Amusements went to. People came not only from all the surrounding counties, but from all over the world to go. It was just a giant version of your classic fair.

I saw it as the perfect opportunity to get to know people; nothing creates friends faster than being stuck together with food and noise and smelly things. I decided I would try to meet all of the people that worked for my company, as well as lots of other people working this festival, and find some good friends to keep in touch with. Maybe I'd even walk around and enjoy being at a place people go to have fun.

Once we made it to Jinae, my first matter of business was to learn more about the people I was stuck working with. I started in my own trailer. The three guys were named Jorge, Héctor, and Borja. They were cousins from Mexico. They didn't say much else.

I moved on to the closest trailer that held coworkers of mine, which happened to be the home of Eren Jaeger. This kid was such a hothead, and we'd done little talking other than arguing over who got to operate The Titan, our most intense ride. He was, like, obsessed with it. I was rather proud of myself for being the bigger person and going over there to get to know more about him and his roommates.

Also staying there was our brilliant mechanic Armin and setup girl Mikasa. I learned that their parents had died in some crazy natural disaster (they wouldn't elaborate further) and that Eren was trying to work his way up the corporate ladder so that they had a chance at the lives they deserved. Noble, yes. But he was still annoying as heck.

Once I was better acquainted with a sufficient number of people from my company, I walked around the grounds to see how setup was going. I scouted out which food places were around our rides and was pleased to see a little funnel cake stand across from The Titan, which was already well on its way to being fully assembled.

I stood back with my hand on my hips and watched as people scurried around setting up their own stands, leading animals around, testing lights- hold up.

Hold up.

An adorable boy with warm, tan skin and a warmer smile walked past carrying a box to the funnel cake place. He laughed at something a friend said, unpacked loads of plastic forks and paper plates, then vanished behind the truck attached to the stand.

I was definitely fighting Eren for the right to work The Titan that week.

 

 

"Eren. Eren. Eren you need to let me take The Titan this week it's super important."

"No, dude, you had it last week!" he whined.

"You don't understand. You can have it every week for the rest of the summer if you let me run it this week," I offered/begged.

"Like heck you'll actually do that. No. I don't like your attitude, and I owe you nothing at the moment," he argued, crossing his arms. "Besides, you didn't even say 'please.'"

"I am not going to say please."

"I think you should stop acting like toddlers and share it," came a quiet but stern voice from behind me. As neither of us had the moxy to disagree with Mikasa Ackerman, who had spent the day lifting the heaviest of the things our company brought out of the trucks alongside our strongest guys, Eren and I decided sharing sounded like a pretty nice idea.

 

I didn't cross paths with my funnel cake-frying cutie during the rest of setup (I'm assuming because all you have to do to set up a concession stand is drive it to your spot), but Eren was gracious enough to let me take The Titan first. It was a ride that had two arms with cages at one end of each, and they swung around in circles. Not the most wicked ride in the world, but it was the best we had. I was just doing a practice run of it, flipping through radio stations to find a good one to blare, when I saw him. I dropped my lemon shake. 'If he's gonna keep being this hot,' I thought, 'maybe I should forfeit the ride to Eren for the safety of the passengers.' Unfortunately, I'm too selfish for that so I stuck around and stared until, speak of the devil, Eren freaking Jaeger stepped in front of me, arms crossed.

"Hey the horse barn is over by Gate G," Eren teased. Hilarious. "You seem a little distracted this morning, Kirstein. Gotta be on your A Game for a big event like this," he continued.

"Yeah, yeah. And you'd better get back to work, yourself. Grounds open in fifteen," I muttered. 

"Anyway, I came over to tell you I'd rather switch jobs in the middle of each day rather than every other day. Boss put me on break and I hate to feel like a slacker," Eren explained, brushing off my previous comment. I agreed that it sounded like a good idea, then shooed him off so I could enjoy the view.

  I'll have you know, I'm embarrassingly good at being a spy. Spending those couple of months people-watching has given me the ability to find out lots about people without knowing them long at all. This is how I was able to find out that the guy's name was Marco. Well... I guess it didn't take that much expertise. His kid sister, who was running around advertising in front of their stand, screamed it every few seconds.

"COME EAT OUR FUNNEL CAKES! MARCO MAKES THEM SO GOOD! FAMILY BUSINESS FOR FORTY YEARS! Wait, Marco, what else should I say?" The boy would only chuckle and patiently say something to her that I couldn't catch.  I realized around noon that Marco's last name had literally been flashed in my face by bright lights all day. "Bodt's Famous Funnel Cakes," the sign read. They'd said it was a family tradition, so I'd assumed it was their last name. Unless it was tradition on their mom's side. Oh well, it really wasn't that important. 

By 1:00, Eren's plan to switch early was sounding really good to me. Being on break meant I could go buy a funnel cake and see Marco up close. I could care less about The Titan at this point. 

By 2:00, watching all these other people freely walk up to Marco, TALKING to him, was becoming unbearable, and I still had two hours. I was more fidgety than Jaeger, and let me tell you, that is commendable.

I tried to distract myself by making cheesy jokes with people in line, blasting music, anything but looking at the beautiful boy just across the road, with a little batter spilled on his orange apron and some powdered sugar in his hair (that someone had better tell him about; it was pretty bad to be noticeable from across the walkway).  Nobody even puked during my shift. Nothing out of the ordinary happened, so Marco kept stealing my attention back.

At long last, Eren made his way over to me. 'Thank you, thank you so much for your stupid work ethic making you come early,' I thought. As soon as he took my place in the booth, I flew out of my seat and marched right up to the little concession stand.

It was a slow hour, so Marco was taking his time making an elephant ear for the customer before me. His back was to me, but I could see part of his ever-smiling face if I tilted my head a little. His little sister tugged on his apron and told him she was going to get some cotton candy. He nodded his consent and turned around to give the old lady her food. When he saw me, his eyes widened as they latched onto my face and his mouth opened a little. Even as he politely wished her a nice day, his focus was on me. His expression was mirrored in my own face, I'm sure. As soon as the woman's shaking hands wrapped around her greasy plate, he was at the counter in front of me.

"Hi, can I help you?" Yes. 

"Oh, me?" Yeah, you, Jean, you idiot. "Can I have, uh, one funnel cake?" Lame. 

"Yeah, sure, would you like anything else?" Yes please kiss me. "Uh, no thanks." I sounded really grumpy. I was just trying not to let my voice give me away. Not yet.

"Alright! Thanks, that's $2.00." His voice was sweet and polite, but he sounded a little nervous.

"Wait, the sign says $3.50?" I questioned. I would have paid $20 for a funnel cake from Marco Bodt, to be honest, but I was confused.

"I, um... I know," was all he said before whipping around to take care of my order. The back of his neck was bright red and... dirty with cinnamon? No! Freckles! Duh! Oohhhh freckles. Oh sweet mama. Okay, Jean, stop salivating and say something to him. "So, your family has been doing this a pretty long time. Do you travel around?" I asked him. 

He glanced back at me and replied, "Yeah, we've been doing this for a few generations now. And nope, we only do this fair. I just wanted to help my parents out one last summer before college; it means a lot to them, but it stresses them out a lot." Oh. Well. The 'opposites attract' theory apparently still applies to gays.

Marco turned around and walked up to me, beautifully golden-brown funnel cake in hand. "Would you like powdered sugar on this?" he asked, staring at me and smiling again.

"Uh, yeah. Please." He held the funnel cake over a bucket and shook a strainer full of the sweet white goodness above it, all the while staring deeply into my eyes.

"So, what brings you to our fair?" he asked.

"How did you know I wasn't from here?"

He laughed and said, "Lucky guess. I know pretty much everybody in this town, plus you just don't strike me as the type that lives out in the middle of nowhere." A line is starting to build up now. I laugh with him. He continued to shake the sugar.

"To answer your question, I'm working rides so I can escape my parents for a while. Look for me tomorrow, yeah?" Marco nodded, still smiling and shaking the strainer as the funnel cake slipped out of its plate and into the bucket with a cloud of sugary smoke. He stared at the bucket in defeat and shock. I suppressed a laugh.

"I... am so sorry, I can make another, I-" he stuttered, fishing it out.

"No, no, I'll take that one. I like extra sweet," I said pointedly, taking the ghostly-white funnel cake from his hands. "Thanks, Marco," I added without thinking. He smiled at me and bashfully lowered his gaze to his feet, before whipping his head back up again.

"Wait, how do you know my name?"  Crap, CRAAAP.

"I, uh, your name tag," I said, running away with my hands full.  He was not wearing a name tag at all.

As soon as I was sure was out of his view, I stopped at a trash can and swept some of the sugar off of my funnel cake. I found that the batter had been drizzled in the shape of a perfect heart in the middle.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean is an awkward, forgetful dork

I found a bench and hangrily (hungrily and angrily) tore at my funnel cake. Dang was it good. It was only 5:48 then and I had nothing to do but brainstorm hopefully un-awkward ways to approach Marco. I couldn't really buy another funnel cake; those things were unbelievably filling. Whatever I did, I had to act like the name incident had never happened. That was über creepy on my part.

I scratched my head, forgetting that my fingers were still thoroughly coated in clumpy powdered sugar. Great. I tried to brush some of it out, but I knew it was no use. I swung my backpack around to my stomach, grabbed my ratty old red beanie, and pulled it over my now three-toned hair. Real natural. A hat in 85 degrees Fahrenheit. Hey, if I was going to 'happen to pass by' Bodt's Famous Funnel Cakes again, it was worth it.

I got up and tried to walk off the heavy feeling the funnel cake had left in my gut. My feet carried me right back to Marco's stand. And then into the line.  I racked my brain for something to say and I still hadn't come up with anything when I reached the front.

"I can help whoever's next- oh, hi, again!" He remembered me. And I had nothing to say.

"Oh hi. Uh. Can you tell me where the... um..." What's something they have at every amusement park? "...where the lemonade stand is?" Marco gave me a strange look. He leaned over the counter a little and my breath hitched as his face came closer. Then he pointed to the stand directly next door.

"But they're like kind of everywhere?" he added. I mumbled a 'right thanks' and sidled up to the window of the other stand. I glanced back at Marco, who was trying to hide the fact that he was snickering at me. I was right next to him; I couldn't back out. I had to buy a lemon shake or I'd look like an even bigger doofus.

My lemon shake sucked butt. It was watery and I could feel the grainy undissolved sugar in my mouth for the next half hour as I walked around the fairgrounds. I couldn't very well leave Marco with that impression of me for much longer. I decided to make a big loop, and when I got to the front I'd say something again, even if I just made small talk about the weather.

Walking through a crowd for the distance I did takes most people a long time, but I'm not polite like normal people. I push through people without apologizing and I don't slow down for anything. Soon enough I passed our ride, the Tune Train (which was actually a pretty cool ride. Simple round track, but super fast and great music was always blasting) and made a mental note to ask to operate that ride sometime this week; it was about the same distance from the funnel cake stand as The Titan, and I could play pretty much whatever music I wanted on that one.

I took a seat at a nearby table and waited until there was no line at Marco's stand, then trotted right up to the window, full of confidence, ready to talk to him. "Hey, nice day for a fair, right, Marco?" I said. My smile faltered as I found his little sister raising a questioning eyebrow at me in his place.

"Marco's pooping. Did you want something?" She really got right to the point, didn't she?

A loud, metallic clanging, squeaking sound came from the back of the stand. I heard Marco's voice yell from the back, "Was not! Who's there, Marie?"

"That guy with the long face and weird hair from earlier. And don't you lie, mister, you've been gone for fifteen minutes!" She stuck her tongue out at him.

"Hey, be nice, I couldn't find it. Let me up front with you." He made his way to the front, smiling and clearing his throat as he saw me. His teeth were perfect. "Sorry about my sister, man. What can I do for you now?" Why don't you just do me?

"Can I just have some water?" I responded quickly. 

"Of course, would you like powdered sugar with that? I mean. Wow. Okay one moment," he stammered. I grabbed a napkin and slid it against the metal wall under the counter. "Thirsty guy, huh?" he asked without turning around.

"Huh?" I pulled my pen out of my backpack, casually as I could.

"You just had a shake and you're getting another drink now. I get it though, it's a hot day, gotta stay hydrated."

"Haha yeah. The sugar just makes you thirstier, if that makes any sense." Why did I lie about that? Why didn't I just tell him it tasted like a cup of Gatorade had been dumped out and refilled with warm water and a scoop of sand? I scrawled my number out on the napkin. I didn't have time to write my name because, just then, Marco came back with the cup. I nearly dropped the napkin as I folded it and slipped it in with my two folded dollars.  "Thanks," I said, reaching out my hand to give him my money.

"Um, it's just ice and tap water; that's no charge." Marco your politeness is killing my plan. I had to think fast.

"Oh. Uh. Do you have bottled water? I don't drink tap." But you don't mind living in a trailer, do you, Jean?

"Really? Oh. Okay, hmm... I think I have some in the back, but my dad'll get mad if I don't charge you for it, sorry," he said as he jogged past the friers.

"That's cool!" I assured him. He returned and put the bottle on the counter. "$1.50, I guess," he said as he wiped the condensation off on his apron. I passed him my two dollars and literally ran away. "Wait! You gave me too much!" he called after me.

"Keep it!" I replied.

It was easy to slip away from him because it was almost 8:00; it was dark and there was a bigger crowd to hide behind. I swung myself onto a bench and ran my hands down my face in despair when I thought of what I'd just done. Boy, was I feeling ballsy that day.

-

Luckily, the fair closed before I could make a bigger fool of myself. I was clearly out of control of my actions. What would I wind up doing next, kissing him over the counter? Rather than lingering around to find out (as I was technically allowed to do as an employee), I marched straight to my trailer.

Only when my bed, with its stiff mattress and heap of blankets came into view did I feel just how tired I was. When you stare at someone that breathtaking all day, the hours of not breathing really add up and take a toll on you. I decided I'd take a shower in the morning and opted for rolling the covers around me instead of changing into clean pajamas. 

Just as I'd assumed the most ideal sleeping position, my limbs curled tightly around a pillow, I felt my phone buzz inside my pocket. Right. I was sleeping in my clothes and had forgotten to take it out. I groaned into the pillow and willed it to teleport onto the bed next to me so I wouldn't have to move. That didn't work (once again reminding me why I couldn't be a traveling magician), and I grew curious to see who it was, so I gave up and pulled it out of my pocket.

My phone was a piece of crap Nokia with very limited services. If I took my Samsung from home, my parents could still contact me easily, and I certainly didn't want that, so I'd spent the money out of my pitiful earnings to buy it. I didn't use it much, anyway, plus I still had my iPod.

I pressed a button to discover that, inside the pixelated letter on my screen, there a text from an unknown number. "Hi man, it's Marco the funnel cake guy :) You gave me your number earlier, did you need to talk about something?"

Oh. OH. Right. I couldn't believe my eyes. If I were him, I totally would have never texted me, the creepy, awkward, dirty stalker who had continually bothered him all day. Of course, being the polite little angel he was, he had texted the weirdo stranger anyway, with perfect spelling and grammar. Why? I didn't know how to find out. All I could really do was text back. "oh hi not really, just wanted to b able to contact u. as like. fellow fair workers and stuff"

He took 7 minutes to reply after that (but who's counting). "Okay, cool! :D Well, I'd like to put your number in my contacts but I'm afraid I don't know your name. Mind sharing?" That's right- I'd never introduced myself! Wooww way to creep.

"oh ha sry im jean kirstein. prob should have mentioned that huh" This time, he shot back a reply.

"Oooohhh that makes sense. My sister and I were trying to figure it out based on what your friend called you when you switched shifts with him, but our best guess was John, and you don't really look like a John." I stare at my phone for a minute, trying to comprehend what I just read. He... was watching me all day? Like I had been doing to him? My chest started to feel too warm so I pushed off my top cover and scooted into a more comfortable texting position.

"ya it used to take my school teachers forever to get right. and eren is not my friend hes awful"

"Hahaha okay then, Jean! Hey, now that we've both kind of admitted to kind of stalking each other, will you tell me how you figured out my name? ;)" Oh, great. I knew he couldn't have forgotten. The winking eyes burned holes in me every second it took to tap out a reply.

"i heard your sister shouting it actually. i though it was mark at first lol. and btw ive just been a little distracted today so if i seem like a weirdo thats why, i was not being a stalker. just u, u freak" His response is taking too long. Did he not catch the sarcasm? I sent an emoticon just in case.

":P"

You really do start to adapt to the style of whoever you're texting. I hate emoticons.

"Oh, sorry, man! I shouldn't have labeled you, forget I said that!"  He sends another text, seemingly trying to change subjects. "So are you operating the same ride again tomorrow?" I don't want to dwell on the subject of stalking (which I have done little other than lie about anyway), so I gratefully go along with it.

"maybe. might b a dif one, might be my break, idk. want me to let u know"

"Yes, please!" He starts sending them rapid-fire.

"I mean yeah"

"Cool"

"Let me know and text me when you get the chance tomorrow, I get really bored!" I smiled at how flustered he sounds in his string of messages, but my roommates frowned and started scolding me in Spanish. My loud text tone must have started to annoy them. I could put my phone on silent, but it would still light up and keep them awake because the piece of crap had no dimmer. 

"haha no prob, ill let u know soon as i find out. gtg, talk tomorrow?"

He sent one last text. "Of course! Goodnight, Jean :)"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> School starts tomorrow, so it's anyone's guess how long it'll take me to update. That's why I added this short little chapter today; to prove to you (and myself, tbh) that I'm going to actually write my first multi-chapter fic. A little red beanie reference in this one (even though it's not Thursday). Hope you caught it, and hope you enjoyed! Comments and kudos always so appreciated! Thanks :)

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed it! I am planning on adding more chapters, as long as you all like it and I don't get bored with the idea. There is a small mention of lownly's character, Marie Bodt, Marco's sister, who I did not come up with at all, so creds to her for that awesome little princess. I apologize for my lack of swearing; it's not something I do naturally, so I didn't include it, which I understand is a little out if character for Jean. Hopefully it was still okay! I would so appreciate your comments and kudos. Thanks for reading!


End file.
